


Castielle

by followyourenergy



Series: Mistaken Identity [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Blind Date, Castiel & Meg Masters Friendship, First Kiss, Gay Castiel, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Meg Masters Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Mistaken Identity, Owner Dean, Professor Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-17 01:00:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11840700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followyourenergy/pseuds/followyourenergy
Summary: When Dean Winchester swears off dating, his employee Meg Masters comes up with a plan to get him together with the best person she's ever known, her best friend.  It's only sort of her fault that Dean thinks her best friend is a woman named Castielle instead of a man named Castiel.  He refuses to be tempted until a hit to his ego -- and a hefty wager -- convinces him to try one more time.  After all, she promises she'll never set him up on any dates again, and really, that's all he wants.





	Castielle

**Author's Note:**

> My first one shot! (Although, to be honest, I could've easily made this much longer...)

Meg Masters heard her boss walk through the door grumbling, his phone to his ear.   

“I’m telling you, Sam, it was a train wreck, okay?  He was a douche, plain and simple.... No more set ups!... Clearly none of you know enough about me to set me up with a decent person… No, do NOT dive back into your single friends gutter…. No.  I am done.  Gotta go, I’m at the shop.  Bye.”  He hung up unceremoniously on his brother.

“So, another one bites the dust?” Meg asked her boss, Dean, with a smirk.  

He scowled at her but said, “Fuckin' guy was an ass, and late on top of it. You’d think the people who know me best would know how to find me a decent person to date.  Instead I get either idiotic caricatures of myself or I get people they’d date - yoga instructors and salad eaters.”  He shuddered dramatically as he hung his thick coat on the hook near the rest of his employees’ winter coats and gear. “I swear they think I don’t have a brain in my head given who they set me up with,” he muttered.  “I'd like to have a conversation about more than just cars or what's on Netflix. Just because I'm a blue-collar guy doesn't mean I don't think.”

“Ah, you don’t like being pigeonholed,” she nodded knowingly.  Being a female mechanic in the male-dominated field of auto repair, she could relate.  “Why don’t you get your own dates?”

“Because I’m no better at it, apparently.”  Meg had heard the jokes in the shop about “Weekend Winchester” - he never made it past two days with any of his dating partners.  “Doesn’t matter, though.  I’m done.” 

“What do you mean, done?” 

“I mean no more dating.  Especially guys.  The last few have been the stuff of nightmares.”  Dean pouted as he tucked his phone into his pocket.

“Overreacting a bit, aren’t you?” Meg asked as she arched an eyebrow.

“No, I’m not,” Dean countered.  “All the decent guys are gone, Meg. The women aren't much better. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

Meg considered him thoughtfully as he flipped through the work orders for the morning.   _Yes_ , she thought to herself.   _Yes, this could work, if I can play it just right._  She’d only been working for Winchester Auto for a month, but she was a good judge of character, and Dean was a good guy.  The handsome, green-eyed man with a heart of gold was just a little unlucky in love. And, she knew, he hadn't met her best friend, the best guy she'd ever known and the most important man in her life.  She thought Dean and her best friend would suit each other very nicely.

“Before you give up, let me try,” she suggested.  

He looked at her with a doubtful smirk. “You? Nuh-uh.”

“Thanks, Winchester,” she said sarcastically. “C'mon. Please? I know someone who...”

Dean stopped her with a raised hand. “Hell to the no, Masters. Those are the words of death for me. Were you not eavesdropping on my conversation with Sam?”

“But Dean, seriously, my best friend...”

“Get to work.” He forced a work order into her hands. “Ford Focus in bay three needs a tune-up.” With that, he disappeared into his office. Meg turned and entered the work bays, plotting in her head. She loved a challenge.

Over the next couple of weeks, Meg tried to wear Dean down. She rarely got very far.

“Castiel's very attractive, Dean. Tall, hair like black coffee, piercing blue eyes, perfect pink lips, perpetual st...”

“Sounds hot.  Weird name.  But no.”

“Castiel's really smart, Dean. Professor at the university...”

“No.”

“Castiel is very punctual...”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Important, but no.”

Finally, Meg went in for the kill, something she knew Dean couldn't resist: a hit to his ego. She approached him near closing on a Wednesday.

“Okay, Winchester, I'm gonna leave you alone about this date thing,” she said as she leaned on his desk.

Dean looked up, his relief palpable. “Thank you. Finally, someone who listens.”

Meg shrugged. “No problem. I can see you're afraid. It's fine.”

Dean pursed his lips and glowered.

“I'm not afraid.” She ignored him. 

“I mean, I don't blame you for not wanting to take a chance, play it safe.”  She straightened as if to leave.

“Now wait a minute, it's not like that. I built my own business. I think I know about taking chances,” he argued.

“Sure, sure, but the business stuff is, you know, less personal. Easier. Not as big a risk.”

He frowned. _Reel him in_ , she thought.

“It's too bad, though,” she continued, “because I'd be willing to bet money you'd like Castiel.”

“Pfft, sure, bet money... honey, that would be the easiest money I'd ever make.”

“Easiest money I'd ever make,” she retorted. “Castiel is gorgeous, intelligent, and all-around awesome, to use your favorite word.”

“Oh yeah? Then why is she still single?” he asked. _Interesting_ , Meg thought. _He thinks Castiel is a woman. Hmm. Maybe…_

“By choice,” she shrugged again. “Castiel is as picky as you are. Doesn't like fake people, you know? Values honesty, hard work, family, loyalty and commitment, et cetera. You know, all the crap you value.”

He sighed.  “Say I'm willing to meet this Castielle,” Dean said. “If I don't like her, what do I get?”

“Fifty bucks,” Meg answered smoothly.

“You're pretty confident,” Dean observed.

Meg pouted nonchalantly and agreed.

“Hot, smart, good values? Why aren't you dating her?”

“Um, did you forget best friend? Besides, Castiel doesn't swing my way.”

Dean gave her a pointed glare. “Alright, Masters, fifty bucks and you never try to set me up with anyone again, and I'll meet this Castielle. Deal?”

Meg smiled. “Deal. In fact, I'll even sweeten the pot.” She suggested bets and terms for double or nothing, then triple or nothing and even quadruple or nothing, which Dean couldn't believe. He felt bad for letting her up the ante, but his competitive side couldn't help it. She agreed to make the arrangements for that Friday.

When Friday came, Meg was all smiles, a rare occurrence for her. It was noticed.

“What's with you?” Ash asked her as they prepped their tools for the day. Garth joined in the conversation.

“Oh, just gonna kill two birds with one stone,” she crowed. “Make some money and make boss man a hell of a lot less cranky.”

Near the end of the day, Meg caught up to Dean. “Okay, so remember what you're looking for, Winchester. Brown hair, blue eyes, very tall, probably wearing a nice pair of pants and a white shirt...”

“What, no stilettos? It's a date,” Dean cracked.

“Castiel will be coming right from the university. Heels aren't really a great option walking across campus,” she replied with equal sarcasm. “Now, just remember what I told you to look for and you'll be fine. Be _open-minded_ when you look for Castiel, okay?  Give my unicorn a chance.”

“Unicorn?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” she smiled.  “Castiel is one of a kind.”

“Well, she puts up with you, so…”

“Ha ha, asshat.”  She tossed back her dark curls and folded her arms.  “I really am trying to do something nice for you, if your stubborn ass would just accept it for once.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said dismissively. “I'm sure it'll be the time of my life.”

“I'm sure it will be,” Meg replied with a smile, “and if it isn't, you'll be fifty bucks richer.  Now remember…”

“Meg, you’ve told me to remember multiple times.  Brown hair, blue eyes that’ll make me forget my name.  I think I’ve got it.”  He strode past her to the bathroom to clean up.  Meg smiled to herself as she sauntered back into the service bays for one final survey of the area before she headed home.

Dean headed up the street and around the corner to Beats and Eats, a bar and grill that featured live music and poetry slams, among other things. Dean grumbled about it when his friends wanted to go there, but he secretly liked the place. He thought he might try out for their amateur night sometime. He scanned the small crowd. The place was just starting to pick up, but he could still look around the room enough to spot a tall, beautiful woman if she was around. He didn't see any unoccupied women. Dean frowned, but knew he was a few minutes early, so he sat at the bar. There was a couple sitting on his left with cocktails and a man on the other side of an empty stool to his right, nursing a beer. Dean looked around the room a few times. He played on his phone, stealing glances at the entrance whenever he saw the door open in his peripheral vision. He tapped a tune on the bar. He waved off the bartender. He even asked the couple if they had seen a woman fitting Castielle's description. They hadn't.  He shifted on his seat and glanced at his phone for the time every couple of minutes.

He wondered how much time he should give Castielle. Maybe she was running late. Sam always complained that he didn't give his dates enough of a chance. Well, Sam never met any of his dates. He didn't know there were good reasons for him not to give these people enough of a chance.

He looked over at the man with the halo of light from the bar lights around the crown of his head, who he thought he'd seen glancing at him from time to time. He looked a little tired, but striking all the same. The guy called the bartender over to him by name (which was Chuck, apparently) and said something quietly. Chuck frowned and shook his head. The man studied the gleaming bottles of liquor behind the bar. Dean wondered if the guy was a regular here. Maybe he would know Castielle. Before he could ask, a beer was lowered in front of him. Chuck pointed at the guy, who raised his glass and called, “You looked like you could use one.” Dean laughed and scooted onto the stool next to the man.

“You’re right about that.  Thanks, man. Hey, have you seen a woman walk in here? Brown hair, tall, no stilettos?”

“I'm afraid I haven't,” the man replied.

Dean glanced at his phone for the time again. “Thirty minutes. Guess I'm getting stood up.”

“See? I knew you needed that beer,” the man grinned. He gestured to his own beer. “I prepared myself in advance.”

“You too?” Dean asked as his sipped his beer.

“Apparently,” the man said, shrugging with his shoulders and hands. “I thought you might be him at first. I apologize for staring.”

“No problem, man,” Dean smiled. They drank their beers quietly for a few moments.

“You come here often?” Dean asked, then realized when the man raised his eyebrows that it sounded like a pickup line. They laughed together at Dean's faux pas.

“Every so often,” the man replied. “I like their poetry slams.”

“Yeah? Do you just watch or do you come in to perform with your hipster skinny jeans and wire-rimmed glasses?” he teased, then cringed internally. He hoped he hadn't pushed it too far. Sam said that he didn't know when to stop joking sometimes, and he didn't want to offend the guy.

“Don't forget my slouchy beanie and my ironic t-shirts,” the guy, thankfully, joked back. Dean broke into a wide grin as the man continued, “I'm not sure I really fit in with everyone, but I do like to recite my poetry. There aren't a lot of places where one can express oneself with poetry.  I’ve tried at the post office but they don’t take it well.”

Dean stared at him for a moment until he realized he was kidding, then chuckled.  “Yeah, not too many places for poetry,” he agreed. “I always wanted to try out their open mic night.”

The man looked at him curiously. “Why haven't you?”

“Eh, just haven't worked up the courage, I guess.”

“Well, I hope you do. It's rather exhilarating to try something new. And you can't be worse than some of them.” The man shuddered. “Don't worry, though, everyone is very nice and applauds, whether you are terribly untalented or not.”

Dean laughed at the man's forthrightness. “Well, that's comforting.”

“So what do you do in real life?” he asked Dean.

“I'm a business owner,” Dean answered. It was true, and he figured it sounded better than grease monkey. “And you?”

“I teach bored freshmen about great works they’ll never care about,” the man smiled. Dean laughed. “My favorite class right now, though, is about meaning and metaphor in popular animated works.”

“That's cool. Like all the stuff in that’s supposed to be in Disney and Pixar films?”

“Yes, something like that. In the last class we discussed man's quest for the divine in Looney Tunes cartoons.”

Dean made a thoughtful, impressed face.  “What do you mean?”

The men talked for some time about the hidden messages and meanings in animation and other popular works, then meandered to other topics. Dean discussed the potential effects of the state's proposed economic policies on a small businessperson. The man told funny stories about his brother, also a small business owner. Dean shared stories about his own brother. The man was so easy to talk to, Dean didn't notice the time passing by until Chuck asked if they wanted a third round.

“I'd better not,” the man answered as he stood. “I haven't eaten dinner yet, and I can feel the effects of the two I already have in me.”

“Same,” Dean replied to Chuck.

The man settled the bar tab, waving Dean's offer away. “Don't worry about it, truly. I'm happy to pay. Your company has more than made up for my date standing me up. I had an enjoyable time talking with you.”

“Me too, man. I had a much better time than I thought I would,” Dean said.

The man tilted his head slightly in confusion. “You didn't think you'd have a good time on your date?”

“Not really,” Dean admitted. “Dating is like being trapped in Hell.”

The dark-haired man laughed. “Well, I can understand that.” He grasped Dean's hand in a handshake. “I hope someone special will pull you out of dating perdition someday.” The man smiled at him so sincerely, it made Dean's cynical heart jump.

“Hey,” Dean said suddenly as the man gathered up his coat, “I haven't eaten yet, either, and uh, well, we're here and I, uh, I've had a great time and... do you want to stay and have dinner with me?” He hoped his outer countenance was calm, because inside he was freaking the hell out.

“I'd love to,” the man said, smiling widely with beautiful teeth.

“Awesome,” Dean replied, mirroring the man’s grin. “Um, we never actually introduced ourselves.” He held out his hand again and the man gripped it tightly.  “I'm Dean.”

The man's easy smile slackened. “Dean?”

“Yup,” he said, a little less confident than he was a moment ago. “And you are...?”

The man dropped his hand and shook his head, biting his lip and sighing loudly. Dean was worried now. Had his reputation preceded him? “Everything okay?”

The man chuckled humorlessly. “What was the name of the woman you were supposed to meet?”

Dean wasn't sure why that mattered, but he said, “Uh, it was kind of a weird name. Castielle. Kind of like Gabrielle, I guess?”

The man covered his face, shook his head, and muttered something unintelligible. He looked up and waved weakly. “I'm Castiel,” he said.

Confusion crossed Dean's face before understanding finally dawned. “Fuckin' Meg,” he growled.

“Yes. Fuckin' Meg,” Castiel agreed.  

 

On Monday morning, Meg anxiously awaited her employer's arrival. She hadn't heard from either Dean or Castiel all weekend other than Cas' quick _I don't wish to talk about it_ in response to her several texts and calls. He was a private person, so she wasn't sure what to make of that, and he wasn't home when she dropped by.

“You are officially no longer allowed to set me up on any more dates,” an annoyed Dean pointed and grumbled at her as he slammed through the door.

Meg’s brows furrowed.  “What do you mean? Didn't you have fun?”

“Fun?  Meg, there was no tall, blue-eyed brunette woman waiting for me. I stayed half an hour before I finally figured out she wasn't coming.”

“But...”

“Fifty bucks, Meg.”

“Dean, I think there was a misunderstanding about Castiel...”

“What was there to misunderstand? No woman named Castielle showed up. I looked all around, I waited, I even asked people.”

“Okay, but let me explain...”

“I don’t want explanations.  In fact, I don't want to talk about it anymore. I'm glad it went down the way it did, ‘cause now I don't have to worry about being set up on any more blind dates.”

“Dean...”

“Fifty bucks as of your next payday,” he said before tossing a work order at her and slamming the door to his office.   

On a Friday three weeks after the blind date, Meg handed Dean a fifty dollar bill along with a promise not to set him up on any more dates. He gave her a bit of a hard time for it being late, but he took the money and said they should just put this behind them. She agreed with more than a little relief. Despite her hardened exterior, she really didn't like the important people in her life to be angry with her, and she knew she’d screwed up.  She’d berated herself a few times for not being fully honest with Dean about his date (even though it was done with good intentions, knowing her boss was a stubborn son of a bitch who wouldn’t have even tried had he known her best friend was a man), but she figured the damage was done, and she was grateful there would be no lasting ill will. The following Friday at the end of the work day, Dean mentioned that he was going to use the fifty she'd given him on a nice steak dinner. She smiled and waved goodbye as he left. She was scheduled to work another hour. Near the end of her shift, she received two texts, the first from Dean and the second, almost immediately after, from Cas.

 _From Dean 5:54pm: Hey Meg, check out my hot boyfriend._ A photo was attached to the text, and Meg's mouth dropped open in disbelief when she saw her boss and her best friend kissing in a car Meg recognized as her boss' Impala.

 _From Cas 5:55pm: You should join us, since your money is contributing to the meal._ He followed it up with the name and address of the restaurant they were heading to, and Meg grinned and shook her head fondly.

_To Dean and Cas 5:58pm: You lying little assholes... I'm so proud. See you soon.  And you are gonna tell me all about this._

When she arrived and they settled at the table with their drinks, Castiel and Dean recounted the story, starting when they figured out they were each other’s dates.  

 

_The date night, four weeks prior_

After a moment of tense silence following their mutual realization, Castiel said, “I can't believe she told you I'm a woman. I swear, Dean, I had no idea, and I never would have gone along with this had I known...”

“Hey, no, relax. I believe you.” He snickered to himself, a quiet huff of air. “Thing is, she didn't actually say you were a woman. I assumed you were because of your name and she never corrected me.”

“Still, Dean, she allowed you to assume, thus deceiving you...”

“Yeah, but I was pretty ripe for the picking. I was going on and on about how I was done with dating and I told her there were no decent guys left in the world.  She probably saw it as a challenge. You know Meg.”

“I do,” said Castiel ruefully, “and yes, you're probably right. But...”

Dean stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.  “Hey, you know what, Castiel?  I can't even be mad. I met a really great guy because of it.” He smiled softly at Castiel, who returned it warmly. “So... dinner?”

“Yes,” Castiel smiled. “And please, call me Cas.”

Dinner was easy and light, and they stayed absorbed in conversation long after they'd finished dessert. It was too loud to talk once the house band came to the stage, so they listened for a while until Cas asked, “How about a walk around the park?” Dean smiled and nodded his assent. Despite the chilly temperature, they walked three loops around the park. After the third loop, Dean suggested stopping at the 24-hour coffee shop to thaw their hands and toes and continue their conversation. When there were two empty cups between them, Cas looked at the time.

“Oh, Dean, I'm so sorry, but I really should be going,” Cas said as he showed Dean the time. “I'm babysitting my niece for a few hours tomorrow, and if I fall asleep while caring for her, she may carry out her plan for world domination. I'm told it involves marshmallows.”

Dean laughed warmly as he stood and slid into his coat. “Yeah, I've gotta meet my brother for breakfast, oh... five hours from now?” Cas looked chagrined and Dean waved off the man's apologies.

Ending their evening at Castiel's car back at Beats and Eats, Dean said, “You know, now that we've spent some time together, there is one thing that ticks me off about the whole thing with Meg.”

Cas frowned. “What's that?”

Dean turned his mouth into a mock frown. “I owe her fifty bucks.” When Castiel cocked his head in question, Dean explained, “She made a bet with me that I would really like her friend, and she was right.” Dean pressed his lips together in a shy smile, and Cas' face lit up.

“I'm very glad she didn't make me the same bet, then, or I'd be fifty dollars poorer myself,” he smiled and held Dean's gaze. He rested a hand at the nape of Dean's neck and another on his hip before pulling him into a gentle kiss that warmed Dean's body to the core.  Puffs of icy breath mingled visibly in the winter air.

When they parted, Cas said, “You know, the bet was based on deception, so I don't think you really owe her anything. In fact, I have an idea if you'd like to hear it.”

Dean grinned and kissed Castiel again before saying, “I'm all ears.”

They decided to let Meg think they hadn’t properly met.  Following Dean’s conversation with Meg the following Monday, he closed his office door and texted Cas.

_To Cas 7:57am: I think she bought it._

_To Dean 8:00am: She did. She is texting me right now._

_To Cas 8:01am: What're you going to say?_

_To Dean 8:07am: I just texted her and said I saw a gorgeous man fitting the description she gave me but he was asking about a woman so it couldn't have been Dean._

_To Cas 8:09am: You are so devious. ;) Still on for dinner tonight at my place?_

_To Dean 8:11am: You have no idea how devious I can be, but I do try to use my powers for good. ;) After all the practical jokes she's played on me, she could use a little payback. And yes, I'm looking forward to dinner._

_To Cas 8:14am: Even though we've seen each other every day since Friday?_

_To Dean 8:15am: Yes. :)_

_To Cas 8:16 am: Me too. :) It's kind of hard to pretend to be angry with Meg when I'm so happy._

_To Dean 8:19 am: Same here. :D_

 

“You little punks,” Meg drawled when they’d finished their story.  “You’ve been dating ever since that night?”

“Yes,” Cas answered as Dean grasped his hand.  Meg shook her head slowly, pretending to be annoyed, but happy to see Cas and Dean both smiling and on their way to falling in love.  

 

_Many, many dates later_

Castiel's surprise birthday party was going off without a hitch. Having it at Beats and Eats seemed appropriate given how much time they spent there now – between Dean's new love of singing at amateur night, Cas' continued poetry slamming (which Dean had to buy him a slouchy hat for, just because), and meals with family and friends or just each other, it had become “their” place. Dean was especially excited to be there that night. The light in Cas' eyes as he talked with their loved ones, opened his gifts, and enjoyed his cheeseburger was beautiful, and Dean wanted to freeze the moment forever. Since he couldn't, his only hope was to make the next moment even better.

“Okay, everyone,” Dean shouted over the commotion of their friends and family chatting amiably. “I, uh, have something I want to say.” The room hushed and Castiel's warm blue eyes focused on him. Dean took a deep breath before plunging in. “So, uh, Cas, I haven't been a hundred percent honest with you.” He turned to look at Cas briefly. His eyebrows were raised in curiosity.  Dean flashed him a quick closed-lipped smile before turning back to face the others.  “So, um, I figured I’d settle up tonight.”

Dean heaved a deep breath and continued, “I told Cas that Meg had made a bet with me about meeting him.  That was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth.  See, Meg and I made four bets, but Cas only knows about the first one, which was that I’d really like her friend.  Even though she purposely withheld the gender of my blind date…” he squinted at Meg with false anger, “if we look at the spirit of the bet, she won.  So, Meg, here’s fifty bucks for you.”  He handed her a fifty dollar bill, and she smiled.

“Shouldn’t I get the money I gave you back, too?”

“Don’t push it,” he smirked as he plucked the money he’d just given her out of her hand.  “Now, that was the first bet.  But most of you know Meg, and she’s cocky.  So… here’s the stuff you don’t know, Cas.”  He glanced at Cas before turning back to his audience.  “Never having met this person, she made me a double-or-nothing bet that I’d want to date Castiel.  Beyond a weekend.”  Their friends and family laughed with Dean, remembering his former reputation.  “And she was right about that, too.”  He looked affectionately at Meg as he handed her the fifty he’d just taken from her, plus another fifty.  Meg returned his smile.  They had become good friends since Dean and Cas started dating.  Cas watched their interaction happily and smiled at Dean as he recounted the many dates they’d had since that first meeting.  “But then,” Dean said louder as he took the hundred dollars from Meg, “she got cockier, and bet me _triple-or-nothing_ that I’d fall in love with this person who, let me remind you, I’d never met.  And, of course,” his eyes glowed with warmth as he glanced at Castiel shyly, “she was right about that, too.”  Dean handed Meg the two fifties again, with an additional fifty.  The group cheered as Dean leaned down to Cas for a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. 

“But then,” Dean continued quietly as he tugged the money from Meg once again, “then, Meg got brash and let her competitiveness rule over her common sense, because she wanted to make a _quadruple-or-nothing_ bet.”  Eyes widened around the table as Dean shook his head.  “The first rule of betting is to make sure you have a chance to win the bet.  I felt bad because there was no way she was winning that.  It was all in my control.  But hey, I’m a competitive guy and I couldn’t pass up a sure win, employee or not.  Do you remember that bet, Meg?”

Meg looked up at him with uncharacteristic quiet, the usual fire in her eyes replaced with concern and hesitance.   “Yes,” she finally said, her eyes pleading for him to tread cautiously.  She trusted him, but she was afraid for her best friend… until Dean subtly winked at her, and then Meg broke into a huge grin, eyebrows raised in hopeful expectation.

“Meg said, and I quote, ‘I bet you quadruple or nothing, Winchester.  Not only will you like, date, and fall in love with my best friend… you’ll ask Castiel to marry you within the year.’”  Gasps flooded Dean’s ears.  He waited for them to grow silent again, their eyes anxious for what he would say next.  He couldn’t look at Castiel, not yet.  “There’s no luck involved here, no odds to play against.  She could lose this bet if only because I want to spite her.  And yet,” Dean breathed as he peeled another fifty out of his pocket and added it to the others, “I didn’t want to wait any longer.”  The wide eyes of their friends and family became watery ones as he handed Meg two hundred dollars and dropped to a knee in front of Castiel, who was trembling.  As Dean asked Cas to marry him, Meg’s eyes were the shiniest of all. 

“Best bet I ever made,” Dean whispered in Cas’ ear as he embraced his future husband tightly.

“Easiest money I ever made,” Meg murmured to herself, letting a bittersweet tear fall as she watched Castiel – her best friend, her unicorn, the man she loved – finally find the love he deserved.


End file.
